Subordinate
by thewriteday
Summary: Sharon hears Brenda say something she shouldn't have and it's the perfect segue for something she's wanted to do for a long time. A smutty one-shot I wrote last year. The first thing I wrote for this pairing.


"Say it again," said the captain.

Brenda never thought she'd be in this position – backed up against a wall in her office, only a short space of air separating her face from the person in front of her. Or at least she never expected that person to be Captain Sharon Raydor.

Brenda's cheeks burned in shame. The day had taken its usual course: Brenda did something slightly less than procedure; Raydor stepped in to reprimand her; Brenda cursed the woman under her breath.

Only this time she had done it before Raydor had left range of hearing, the woman's lovely legs just barely making it past the office door.

The brunette had turned on her expensive heels, slammed the door, and closed the distance between herself and the chief, pinning her to the wall by invading her personal space and instituting the patented Raydor glare.

"Tell me what you just said," repeated Raydor. Brenda couldn't make her mouth move, in apology or anything else. She just stared into those growling green eyes until her gaze slipped down to two pressed lips, perfectly painted a deep red. _Like red velvet cake…_Brenda thought, supressing her desire to moan.

It could only have been a moment before she returned her eyes to Raydor's, but the brunette had caught it. The woman smirked, her eyes lighting up, clearly pleased by her superior's moment of weakness.

_Use your words, Brenda Leigh!_

"I'm sorry, Cap'n, I didn't mean to-"

"You absolutely meant to." Raydor interrupted. "All I want you to do is repeat the word." Brenda hated the way the captain's voice seemed to slowly drip, spilling over her. _Like honey._ She thought. And then cursed herself for continuously making mental leaps from Raydor to things that tasted sweet.

They stared each other down before Brenda yielded.

"Bitch," she whispered. With none of the gusto or intent with which she'd uttered it minutes before.

"Again." Raydor said as she leaned in close, her lips inches from Brenda's. "What did you call me?"

"I-I called you… a bitch." Brenda face was on fire, but the fire didn't stop there. It extended to the tips of her fingers, her nipples that were currently hardening at the sound of the captain's voice. She could feel the woman's touch even though the brunette's hands were rooted firmly in their pockets.

Sharon smirked one more time. Then she crashed her lips against Brenda's, her arms quickly debilitating her superior officer. She forced the blonde even further against the wall, pressing every curve of her body against Brenda's. Brenda whimpered, her eyes remaining open for a few moments before she succumbed to every touch, letting her lids fall shut.

She tasted every inch of Sharon's mouth, at first by force, and then by retaliation, fighting back with her tongue. Her body fought back too, but lightly. She squirmed against Sharon's arms, trying to regain some semblance of control. Her body's movements only sped the arousal of them both.

Finally she took the only measure she could think of – she bit Sharon's lower lip. Hard. The brunette yelped and drew back in shock, her eyes wide. She still held Brenda, but her grasp had weakened, and the younger woman took the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

In a surprisingly smooth manoeuver, Brenda took Sharon's wrists, whirled her around, and pinned her against the wall instead.

"My, my, Captain," Brenda cooed. "Aren't you bein' a bit hasty?"

She leaned in, slowly closing the distance between their lips again. At the last second before their mouths met, just as Sharon's eyes started to flutter closed, Brenda changed course and positioned her mouth next to her partner's ear.

"You shouldn't be so rough with me," Brenda whispered. "You might get more than you bargained for." Then she bit down on Sharon's neck, sucking the creamy skin into her mouth. Sharon let out a small cry as her knees buckled beneath her.

Brenda reacted swiftly. She swept her left arm beneath the brunette's back to support her, releasing a wrist in the process. Sharon was in no mood to retaliate and let her free hand fall to the back of Brenda's neck, fondling the golden curls there, gripping them tightly whenever she felt teeth graze her skin.

Brenda loved the tug of Sharon's fingers in her hair. She'd imagined what it would feel like, to touch, kiss, bite this woman. The woman that had infuriated her constantly since setting foot in Major Crimes. Every glimpse of Sharon Raydor made Brenda wonder how the older woman would look, taste, and feel in bed.

Or against a wall.

Sharon finally regained some of her poise. Her hand gripped tighter in Brenda's hair and wrenched the blonde's mouth from her neck. Sharon kissed her, but held back a little this time, all control and pacing. Brenda felt herself melt. She felt Sharon shift a bit beneath her and realized the brunette was hiking up both of their skirts – her own floral, white and pink, and Sharon's black and form-fitting. Then she felt Sharon's leg between her own, applying expert pressure.

Instinctually, Brenda started to work her hips against the firm thigh. She lost her grip on the woman's other wrist, losing all sense of control, allowing Sharon's hands the freedom to reach down and grab her ass, pulling her closer.

The hands then moved to the rest of her body as Brenda ground her hips harder. They caressed Brenda's collar bone, wove through her hair, passed over her lips, before one returned to her ass and the other sought out the bra strap beneath her shirt.

"A red bra?" Sharon said amidst their panting breaths, "I'd never have guessed." And then the older woman manoeuvered her hand beneath both the shirt and bra, her fingers tweaking Brenda's nipple firmly.

"Ohh, Sharon…" Brenda murmured dimly against her partner's ear as she moved her hips with hastening speed. She could feel herself near release, gripping Sharon's shoulders and holding on with her last stores of strength.

"Come now, Brenda Leigh." Sharon said low in her lover's ear. It sent Brenda over the edge, that husky tone. She shook and pulled the woman so close it felt like they would pass through each other.

Before Brenda could catch her breath, Sharon gripped her arms and sat her against the desk. The brunette left her there as she crossed the room, seemingly on a mission.

Brenda breathed heavily, still shaking, as she watched the woman. She finally took in the full sight of the woman's undergarments, which were nothing short of extraordinary. Underneath the black pencil skirt she often wore were shiny black stockings.

Gartered stockings.

Accented by lacy black underwear. The kind of underthings Brenda always passed by in stores. They simply weren't the kind of things polite girls bred in the South could respectably wear.

Her captain stepped out of the skirt, leaving it on the floor and making quick work of the buttons on her blouse, distributing it similarly. It was as if she'd planned this entire thing, the way she stepped about the chief's office so uninhibited. Thank god it was late at night. No one else had been there for hours. They'd both been working in their respective offices, finishing up the last of the week's paperwork when Raydor had barged in to bring up some kind of rule-breaking. Brenda hadn't even been able to process the information at the time.

And now here they were, on opposite sides of the room, Brenda still clothed but rather dishevelled and Sharon half naked in her complicated underwear. Brenda dropped her eyes to Sharon's feet, which were still donning patent stilettos. She bit her lip as she admired the brunette's full form, practically drooling as her longing renewed. She hadn't thought she could be this turned on so soon after orgasm, but she felt the familiar flip, low in her stomach, as she imagined running her hands over those stockings, pulling down the lace panties with her teeth…

Sharon was staring at her, brandishing something in her hands. It was the belt of Brenda's trenchcoat. Before she could utter a word, she felt her arms being pulled together behind her back. Then she felt the belt being tied around them.

When she was done tying the knots, Sharon held Brenda's back against her body, angling her crotch to meet Brenda's ass, and settled there for a moment.

"Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to let your hands go, but I'm not going to untie them," she began. She knew Brenda could hear her smirk even if she couldn't see it. "And when I let go, you're going to get on your knees."

"Is that so? And just why exactly would I do that?" said Brenda.

Sharon held onto the tied belt with one hand while her free hand travelled around the front of the younger woman's lithe body and disappeared under the floral skirt. She cupped the silky panties underneath – which she secretly hoped were also red – and felt Brenda shudder beneath her.

"Because I saw the way you looked at me from across the room, and I thought you might like a taste." Sharon moved her fingers ever-so-lightly between Brenda's legs and the blonde let her head fall back, whimpering in the process.

But Sharon had no intention of delivering so soon. She slid out from behind Brenda and the blonde stumbled. Sharon stepped a few feet away, slipped off her lace panties, and then sat gracefully in the black desk chair.

Brenda stood, speechless, and watched as Sharon placed her glasses on the desk. Then the brunette leaned back and positioned one stiletto against the desk, – her neatly trimmed curls now on full display – with the other foot planted firmly on the floor. She folded her hands together and drew in the chief's lingering eyes with her own.

She refused to speak, allowing Brenda the next move. For a moment she feared the blonde would refuse, demand to be untied, or else stand there forever, leaving her in anticipation.

She watched the thought process behind Brenda's eyes: the initial refusal to accept the challenge, the assessment of this shift in power, the weighing of options, and the final realization that what Sharon had just ordered her to do was precisely what they both wanted.

Brenda Leigh took a few steps towards the captain and then dropped to her knees. Sharon watched as the blonde shuffled a bit closer, moving awkwardly without the use of her restricted arms.

Sharon unfolded her hands; Brenda licked her lips.

The older woman pulled back the long blonde waves as Brenda lowered her mouth to Sharon's inner thigh, laying soft kisses along it, her tongue licking out here and there.

Sharon sighed in approval. She hadn't exactly planned this. Not exactly.

Since meeting the precocious chief of Major Crimes, she'd felt the spark of chemistry, the anger and resentment merely a mask for the heated attraction they both felt.

Last night, she'd laid her lingerie out the night on the dresser, knowing she'd be in close quarters with the chief all day. It had made her feel unreasonably horny, knowing that every time she passed within inches of Brenda, she was wearing her lace and garters underneath, aching to reveal them if given the opportunity.

And when she'd heard Brenda call her a bitch, she'd taken her chance to gain some ground, to force a move. To act on what they'd both been dancing around for the past few months.

And here was her proof that none of it had been in vain. Brenda Leigh Johnson, hands tied, mouth planting kisses between her legs, slowly making her way to Sharon's warm centre.

When the blonde's devilish tongue reached Sharon's clit, she thought for a second she was going to fall off the chair. Her head fell back; her hand gripped tighter in the blonde curls; her back arched. She could feel Brenda smile into her.

"Don't get cocky," Sharon muttered, eyes closed.

"Well a response like that from the slightest–" But Brenda's response was quickly muffled as Sharon forced the younger woman's mouth back down.

"And don't spoil the mood." Sharon grinned. Brenda continued licking and sucking dutifully, but narrowed her eyes up at her subordinate officer. It was hard to tell who outranked who in this situation.

Brenda's pace at first was slow, leisurely. Sharon revelled in it. The hand she didn't have tangled in Brenda's hair moved up to touch her own breast, sliding down the black lace and palming her nipple.

"Yes," She moaned. "More, Brenda. Please." She moved her back in waves, arching towards Brenda's mouth in an uneven rhythm. She'd known the chief would be good at this as soon as she'd opened her smart, Southern mouth. Sharon was pleased she'd come up with a way to put it to proper use. Brenda quickened her pace, her head bobbing, her tongue lapping in every direction.

Suddenly, Brenda took as much of Sharon as she could into her mouth, sucking greedily, and turned her eyes upward to catch Sharon's. Sharon's eyes were wide, her mouth open, the fingers of one hand tightening in Brenda's hair, the fingers of the other digging into the skin of her breast. She was afraid to move, suddenly feeling so close to coming. She tried to hold on to the edge of this cliff, thinking maybe, if she exerted enough willpower, she could stay there forever.

Then Brenda hummed. The combined sound and sensation of her vibrating mouth pushed Sharon off the cliff and she tumbled into a stream of quakes and cries. Brenda continued to hum and moan with delight, letting the brunette guide her head whichever way she wanted.

At last Sharon eased her grip on Brenda's hair. She panted and ran her fingers through her own hair, easing her foot back down from the desk. She leaned forward, her arms reaching behind Brenda's back. She made quick work of the knots in the belt and tossed it aside and then leaned back again. Brenda's hands clenched and unclenched a few times, re-familiarizing themselves with freedom.

Sharon didn't leave her much time to think. She placed her hands on Brenda's face, bringing their lips together softly, feeling the wide mouth still wet from her arousal. She tasted herself, tasted Brenda, let Brenda taste her desire and appreciation. She moved her hands down to Brenda's waist and lifted her to her feet.

"Chief, why is it you still have clothes on?"

Brenda laughed.

"Well seein' as this is the first time I've been allowed to use my hands, I guess now's a good time to fix that." She lifted her sweater slightly but stopped and cocked her head to the side.

"Unless of course you'd like to help."

Brenda walked back to where Sharon was still sitting. Sharon grinned, sliding her hands beneath the sweater and kissing the stomach beneath, the blonde eventually lifting it the rest of the way over her head and dropping it on the floor.

Sharon took her time with the skirt, sliding it slowly down Brenda's legs, stroking the smooth, beautiful skin. The panties did match the bra, much to Sharon's delight. She kissed there too. Then she pulled the blonde onto her lap, those soft thighs straddling her own.

"So how long have you been plannin' this?" Brenda said softly.

"Oh, I don't know," Sharon said. "I guess since last night."


End file.
